


It started with a...

by Meelah



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-06-04 12:00:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6656971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meelah/pseuds/Meelah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen works as a waiter in a sports bar, and it's a good year for the Ferelden Frostbacks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dragonflies_and_Katydids](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonflies_and_Katydids/gifts).



> This is not the story I sat down to write.
> 
> It's not even the Bull/Cullen story I was going to write. In fact, I started by telling tealjay that my happy Cullen story would probably have to involve Cullen taking lyrium because hey, since that's what he wants to do it must mean it would make him happy, right? Right? She frowned at me and said NO, so then I wrote this.
> 
> But the story always started with a kiss.

It started with a _kiss_.

But no, wait, that isn’t true, that's not where it started from—though the kisses _would_ come. The first one experimental and almost chaste, followed by more confident, hungry kisses, mouths devouring each other. Kisses like they invented kissing right there and then, kisses like it was the first time or the last—and both of those mean those kisses had to be taken seriously.

But no, a kiss is not where it started. 

Rather, it started with a _look_ , a glance that lingered just that second too long that made Cullen take notice. 

Or maybe that wasn't where it started from either, for there had been other looks before that too, exchanged across the room. First time Cullen had noticed the large qunari had been when he had _not_ been looking at Cullen but had been wrapped up in watching a football match on the bar television that night. Ferelden Frostbacks had won the match against Orlais Ospreys with the legendary 45-4 score. The qunari had yelled and hugged all his friends, a ragtag crew of humans and elves and even a dwarf, and had ordered a round to the whole bar to celebrate. That night had been busy and there had been no looks his way for any other reason than to call for more beer.

But looks would follow. The qunari, whose name was _the Iron Bull_ , became a regular as the Frostbacks continued their victorious run towards the Golden Cup finale. It wasn't unusual to see him there with his friends after work, and the first time he had looked at Cullen, really _looked_ , he had smiled surprised and delighted, like he had just found money on floor. 

But that wasn't _the look_ , not the first time.

The Iron Bull had ordered two beers, and when Cullen had come back with them, he had asked Cullen's name. His friend and the recipient for the other beer, a Tevinter called Krem, had looked at them both and raised his eyebrows but had said nothing. _Looks_ started soon after that.

Cullen wasn't unused to looks, or sometimes even touches, from his clientele. Usually they were from the fairer sex though, and those always made Cullen feel self-conscious and awkward, and he couldn't quite drown the voice of his mother in the back of his head demanding to know when he was going to bring a nice girl home. It wouldn't be any of these women, Cullen was sure of, and he had recently started to wonder if it was going to be a woman at all.

The Iron Bull's _looks_ might, in fact, have been a contributing factor to this train of thought. 

Somehow the way the qunari looked at him didn't make him feel uncomfortable at all, instead it electrified him. The Iron Bull himself was very popular, both with men and women, and it wasn't unusual to see him leave the bar with an arm wrapped around yet another conquest. His tastes seem to vary wildly from voluptuous red-haired dwarf girls to large dark skinned men with arms as thick as Cullen's thigh, and what Cullen was most impressed about was that the Iron Bull never seemed to need to approach them but that they almost fell into line trying to get his attention. 

Yet it was Cullen he gave _the look_. 

Appreciative, long gaze, far longer than was needed to get his attention for another round. And the Iron Bull hadn't even lifted a finger to call him, he just needed to look and Cullen felt like he was being pulled in by an invisible thread. 

"I was wondering," the Iron Bull said when Cullen was standing in front of him, nervously rolling a pencil between his fingers. "What time are you getting off tonight?" And then the man smiled broadly. "Off work, I mean."

Cullen hadn't thought himself an easily blushing type, a year working at a rowdy bar had taught him a thing or two. But the images the Iron Bull's words conjured up were surprisingly explicit and Cullen swallowed fast.

"Eleven," he says and wonders if he's giving the Iron Bull a look too.

"Want to grab some coffee? Food if you're hungry," the qunari asks. "There's a pretty quiet diner few blocks from here, Dennet's—you know it?"

Cullen nods and the Iron Bull seems to take that as a yes to both questions.

All the bravado and the looks and the flirting—Cullen fully expected to end the night bent over some convenient piece of furniture and be positively ravished, but instead the Iron Bull gives him exactly what he offered. Coffee and a late dinner at Dennet's accompanied by endless stories about Bull working odd jobs with his crew. Cullen enjoys the evening immensely for Bull, as the man insists Cullen call him, is clever and witty and the check comes all too soon.

Bull offers to walk him home with the excuse that he's going that way already, and after their shoulders have bumped together a few times Bull unceremoniously takes Cullen's hand into his own and holds it gingerly all the way to Cullen's street. 

"This is me," Cullen says and stops at the stairs, not pulling his hand away.

"Aww shit," Bull says and cocks his head, smiling. 

_He's going to kiss me now_ , Cullen thinks but this is not the night _the kiss_ happens.

"I had a really nice time," Bull says instead and reluctantly lets go of Cullen's hand. "See you tomorrow? Big game night."

Cullen nods, a little stunned, and feels Bull's gaze on his back as he climbs the stairs to open his door.

The next night is indeed the big game night, and Cullen's bar is packed. Ferelden Frostbacks have made it all the way to the Gold Cup finals and are playing against the Rivaini River Snakes and the whole bar is decorated with orange and gold. It's hard to move in the crowd and most of the waiters are working behind the bar for the night, and first time Cullen sees more than tips of Bull's horns is when he forces his way to the bar with four empty pitchers, two in each hand.

"Can you refill these for me," Bull yells over the noise, grinning and the grin makes Cullen tingle.

Conversation is impossible so Cullen refills the pitchers for Bull and watches him gather them and make his way back to the table and to his friends. Next time Bull manages to get back is during the half-time entertainment when a Tevinter band called _Not All Mages_ is doing a medley of their most popular hits, starting with "It could happen to you". Bull leans over the counter so he doesn't have to yell and Cullen leans in too, a bit closer than is absolutely necessary. Bull's breath is warm and smells of beer and he smiles again.

"Can you find an excuse… join us for a bit?" he asks and leans even closer. "Watch the game with us."

"It just happens that--" Cullen says and smiles back, pulled in again by that invisible thread Bull has lassoed around him. "Max says he's closing the bar for the last quarter of the game so we can watch too. I'll try to make my way over."

Bull touches him then, fingers grazing Cullen's bare arm ending at his elbow where he stops. The touch is a promise, the look in Bull's eye even more so. _The kiss_ , oh yes, the kiss will happen soon now.

Max keeps his promise and Cullen does make his way to Bull's table during the last minutes of the game. No one has ever looked at Cullen quite like Bull does now, big arm pulling him into Bull's lap and squeezing him tight for a second before settling loosely around his waist. The game is at an exciting 31-21 with the Frostbacks getting a free kick and ten minutes on the clock but Cullen can only concentrate on the heat of Bull's body against his. Point by point the Frostbacks climb towards the victory, until they score the final touchdown with only seconds to go and the noise level in the bar raises above Cullen's pain threshold as everyone screams the countdown for the last seconds.

Isn't it funny then that amongst all that, the first kiss is so tender.

Bull is picking Cullen up and setting him down, and later the memory makes it seem like slow motion with all the noise around them blurring into a meaningless murmur. Bull's hand in his hair, eye sparkling with joy and anticipation, Bull seems to draw breath and say something but those words too disappear into the hum of the surrounding chaos. Question maybe, so Cullen thinks it best to nod and Bull grins and leans down to kiss him.

That such a big man could kiss like this is almost unthinkable. Light touch of lips, fingers supporting Cullen's skull but not pushing, a breath, held for a second. It's Cullen who goes for the second kiss, pressing their lips firmer together, and somehow his arms are moving as if on their own and wrapping around Bull's neck. Then someone bumps into them and the illusion of their own private world is broken, but Bull laughs as he pulls Cullen into the next kiss.

And maybe it did start with a kiss, after all.


	2. In the Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happiness is made of small moments.

Cullen wakes up to Bull gently petting his hair.

Cullen, hovering in the state between awake and sleep, stays still with his eyes closed knowing it's not a gesture meant to wake him. Sure enough, he can feel the mattress shift as Bull gets up moving with stealth that always surprises Cullen, and exits the bedroom equally quietly. Bed is still warm from where Bull had been a minute ago, and Cullen listens to him moving about in the apartment. When Bull is out of sight he allows himself to shift, stretching slowly and sticking a foot out from under the sheets.

In the kitchen Bull hums in a low voice and Cullen can hear the tap running, soon followed by a quiet click of the kettle being turned on. Cullen can imagine the view like he's seen many times before: Bull sets two cups neatly in a row on the tray and prepares two pots—one for tea for himself, one for coffee for Cullen. The way he toasts four slices of bread while getting everything else ready is almost done in military precision—by the time the toast pops he's got the butter and cheese ready and coffee and tea brewing in their respective pots. Few swipes from the butter knife later the whole tray is ready and supplies back in the fridge.

When Bull steps in through the bedroom door carrying the tray Cullen doesn't even try to suppress a smile, just cracks an eye open.

"Morning," he says sleepily and stretches again. 

And if the sheet falls down revealing his chest and even more of his leg, so be it.

"Morning," Bull says and sits down on the bed, scooting in while balancing the tray. Makes sure to brush a back of his hand against the exposed thigh. "Make room, bed hog."

Cullen's smile turns into a full grin. 

He doesn't make more room because—well, he likes the feeling of Bull pressing against himself—but he does sit up and then Bull settles next to him, eyeing him with mock disapproval. He reaches tap his teapot and pics up the lid, watching the tea leaves swirl in the pot, and then to presses the plunger down in Cullen's coffee press. 

"Coffee?" Bull asks as a formality as he pours the first cup.

Cullen doesn't answer and nor does he has to, but presses his cheek against the broad shoulder and breathes in. 

The bed smells of sex from the previous night, Bull of cooled down sweat, both overpowered by the strong smell of coffee. For a second his sleepy brain makes it feel like he's floating outside of his body and he sees the scene before him as an outsider would: large naked Qunari sipping tea from a gold rimmed rose tea cup, and another equally naked blond human draped over his shoulder reaching for a piece of toast from the tray on the edge of the bed.

The vision passes as quickly as it appeared, and Cullen feels the crunch of the toast between his teeth, tastes the saltiness of the butter and the tanginess of the cheese. Bull huffs a little, rubbing his stubble against Cullen's forehead and last of the sleep dissipates from Cullen's eyes.

The happiness remains.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [birdscameflying](http://birdscameflying.tumblr.com) on tumblr. You can reblog this story [here](http://birdscameflying.tumblr.com/post/143387355261/it-started-with-a).


End file.
